My parents do not notice when I put half of the sandwich given to me in a bag under my shirt. My father turns his head back to me, taking a bite from his sandwich, and smiles at me. I smile back and take bite out of the half of the sandwich that is left.

The turkey and white bread taste so good, that I'm thinking about eating this half and the other half.

No, I absolutely hate this tasty tasty tasty AWFUIL turkey sandwich.

I choke back the rest of the sandwich. Quickly I grab my glass of water and chug it. I stand up from the table.

"I'm going to my room to read." I say and then I leave.

I glance at the clock near the oven. It reads 12:34, on a Tuesday. School let out last week. So I don't need to be at school and it's wonderful.

I walk to the bathroom. I rip the sandwich into four or six pieces, and let them fall to the toilet. I push the flush and watch it all go down. I pretend to wash my hands in case my mom was listening or something. I walk to my room and sit on my bed.

My stomach rumbles because it is still hungry. I grab my laptop and log into the whispersecret website. I scroll through endless pictures of collar bones, hip bones, and rib bones. These fill my stomach and the stomach rumbles have vanished.

I smile to myself for a second. I'm getting better at this.

I twist my head around to look at the mirror.

I am in the bathroom. I'm standing in my underwear and bra. My reflection from the mirror tells me that the fat around my shoulder blades, and the fat on my ribs in the back, are fading away.

I smile again. I am making progress, this is actually happening.

When I first found the website, I never thought I'd get this far. I honestly thought I'd do this for about a week or two. Nothing to change anything too much. But it's four weeks from the first day and I'm still going strong.

It's actually rather hard to hide this from my parents. Since they, of course, are always in my business. Why does it matter to them anyway?

After the first week I had lost around five pounds already, my mother notice at once. She asked me what was going on and I shrugged. I told her I didn't know what she was talking about and that she was crazy.

I now know to wear baggy enough clothes so no one can see.

It's a wonder Maya hasn't noticed yet, since of course best friends are supposed to notice everything. Right? They are kind of like the mother we actually listen to.

I turn away from the mirror. The mirror doesn't really matter, honestly. It's the numbers.

The numbers are what settle me down. Seeing the numbers go down helps me go down. I don't know what I'm going down towards, but I know it's a better place. It's better than here.

I pull out the super-secret weight scale. I put it on the ground. I mentally prepare myself for the number. When I'm ready I quickly tap the scale. The screen comes on with the numbers 00.0.

I step on to the scale.

I look up and try to think of something else while the machine calculates me.

I look back down.

104.3

Half a pound lighter than yesterday, this is wonderful! I smile again. I step off the scale and hide it. I quickly put back on the pajamas I had stepped out of earlier.

I pretend flush the toilet and wash my hands.

I exit the bathroom and go to my bedroom. My bedroom where I will spend until dinner, where I am forced to eat.

Food is stupid. Hunger is beautiful.

When I daydream, I usually think about the future. My future.

The daydreams are filled with stupid love stories about myself and my long string of lovers. I know that's silly. Some daydreams are about what kind of career I will have. Sometimes I am a medical examiner, then I am a physiatrist, and then I am a famous singer.

Most daydreams are of me reaching my goal. I will imagine myself stepping on to the scale and looking down and seeing the magical number. I can see myself floating away, drifting away. I see myself finally becoming who I am meant to be.

Maya does not notice when I get just a half order of salad with a side of dressing. She does not say anything when I eat only the hard pieces of bread. She does not say or notice when I pick the tiny carrot slices out and dip them slightly in the dressing. She does not notice that I throw away everything else.

I notice that Maya eats her food. I notice she eats the burger she ordered. I notice she eats the French fries that came with them. I notice she dips the French fries in ketchup.

I notice me struggling to keep my hand back from grabbing one.

Maya does not notice.

Maybe no one truly notices me. No one noticed when I dropped from 115 pounds to 105 in a short time. Maybe they did and they didn't care enough to say anything.

I'm not one that someone will simply care for apparently.

Thanks for reading! My first Girl Meets World fanfiction!

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